Page 68 of The Beauty and the Boxer
She tore open the door and left the study,hurrying down the corridor as fast as she could before the tearsshe had been fighting off for the past quarter of an hour began tofall.
Chapter Fourteen
Meredith hadn’t slept well at all, withnightmares of Clyde and Jack torturing her throughout the night.They had been in a grove, surrounded by oak trees, with their fistsup in front of them like they were going to fight. She had tried tostop it, had tried to call out, but had found that her voice hadall but disappeared.
Brynn the maid had fortunately woken herfrom her unrestful nightmare when she came into the room thatmorning to stir the coals of the fire.
“Good morning, my lady,” Brynn said, busyingherself with straightening up the room. She headed towards thefireplace and poked at the coals. “I’ve been informed that you’redeparting first thing this morning.”
“Oh, yes,” Meredith said, pressing the heelof her palms to her eyes. “I think the yellow striped day gown willdo.”
“Yes, my lady,” Brynn said as she hurriedaway to pull out a day dress.
The maid worked quickly and quietly for theremainder of the morning as Meredith fought against images of lastnight. Memories of Jack’s hands, eyes and mouth haunted her whileshe dressed. She had to close her eyes while her hair was beingdone so that she didn’t see herself in the mirror. Even as shewalked down to breakfast, memories flashed in her mind likelightning. She never knew touching like that. Clyde hadn’t beenterribly clever with his hands and certainly not his mouth. It hadbeen tantalizing under Jack’s touch and while she absolutely knewit would never happen again, she was excited to have the memory ofhis eyes as he worked himself—
“Miss Taylor! Oh, Miss Taylor!” DawnTrowbridge said as she waved from the other side of the table.
Meredith tried to smile, thankful for thedistraction from her memories. She had a plate fixed and sat nextto the young woman, who seemed desperate to align herself withMeredith.
“Good morning, Miss Trowbridge,” Meredithsaid as she took up her teacup.
“Oh, you must call me Dawn,” the young ladysaid, leaning towards her. “I believe we should be good friends ifyou were ever to come to London.”
“I’m rarely in town,” Meredith said as SirKent entered the room, followed closely by Lord Buchanan,Mountebank, and Simon. She was momentarily disappointed to see thatJack wasn’t with them. She twisted back to Dawn. “I do plan onattending next season, though. My younger sister, Beatrice, ismaking her debut.”
“Is she? How fascinating,” Dawn said, hereyes fixated on a point behind Meredith. “Well, perhaps we shall bein each other’s company then, that is of course, if I am still onthe market by then.”
Meredith turned to follow her gaze.
“Have you found yourself fancying someonethen?” she asked.
Dawn smiled coyly at Mr. Blake. He nodded atthe two and Meredith made sure not to appear too aware of theconnection.
“I dare not speculate,” Dawn said softly.“But I do have hope.” She inhaled dramatically. “It’s a pity wedidn’t have more time to speak during our time here. We depart thisafternoon.”
“We are leaving just after breakfast I’mafraid.”
“A pity indeed!”
“Well then, you two should correspond,” LadyBuchanan said from across the table, not caring an ounce that shehad been eavesdropping. “The dreary winter always goes by muchfaster when you have someone to exchange letters with, don’t youagree, my lord?”
Lord Buchanan came around to sit, along withSir Kent, flanking the older woman on either side.
“Quite right, my dear,” the older mansaid.
“I’ve always found writing letters to be afine past time,” Sir Kent said. “Reading as well.”
“As have I,” she said, trying not to blushbeneath his perpetual stare.
“Sir Kent, you should write Miss Taylor aswell,” Lady Buchanan said, giving Meredith the slightest of winks.“I’m sure she would be ecstatic to have the honor of reading yourletters.”
“Lady Buchanan,” Meredith said quietly,hoping to dissuade the older woman.
“Oh, but you must!” Dawn said to SirKent.
“Please,” Meredith nearly whispered.
“If it’s not too forward, Miss Taylor,” SirKent said. “I would enjoy that.”
